Nick Page

It’s been a hectic time. I’ve been speaking and teaching at Spring Harvest for the first time in many years - and had a great time. Work is very busy at the moment: I’m revising my Bible Book for a relaunch in the summer (a chance to correct the mistakes and create some new maps!); I’m editing a new version of George MacDonald’s classic novel Phantastes, and I’m working on some exciting new projects, which I can’t divulge. What this essentially means is that I’m exhausted! And it’s only April.

Anyway, being away over the last few weeks meant that I missed Tudor Parfitt’s C4 documentary in which he rediscovered the ark of the Covenant. Fortunately someone videoed it for me and I watched it last night. I thought I’d heard all the theories, but this was a new one on me: the Ark of the Covenant was taken by some Jews from Jerusalem to Yemen, where they kept it for a few centuries before moving down to South Africa. By which time it had turned into a drum. A large drum. But still a drum. And only 600 years old.

To be fair there were some fascinating things in the programme, not least the genetic information which showed that the lemba people of S.Africa really did have Jewish ancestry. But the linking of their ancestral drum with the Ark of the Covenant was.. er… well, it was a bit bonkers actually. Parfitt claims that the tribe brought with them a sacred object from Jerusalem. But there are a lot of problems with this. For a start the Biblical evidence is scanty. As I state in my book there are hardly any references to the Ark of the Covenant after the reign of Solomon. So the dates of its disappearance could be any time from about 1000BC to the Babylonian conquest of 598 BC. There’s no real evidence that it was still around at the time of the Babylonian conquest. Secondly, I noticed that in Parfitt’s theory the escaping Jews went to Petra - which was in Edom. Yet according to the Bible, the Edomites, and Edom had had actually helped the Babylonians to attack Jerusalem. The Babylonians controlled Edom, so why anyone would escape in that direction is beyond me. Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly: IT’S A FLAMING DRUM.

There were some good things in the programme. It pointed out that the ark was, essentially, just a box, so the wood would have rotted long ago (hence it being remade - as a drum). It destroyed some of the other theories (such as the Ethiopian theory, which is a seventeenth century myth). And Tudor himself got to jet around the world, so I’m pleased for him.

But it’s still a drum.

The BBC has begun promoting its new version of the Passion, which starts, I think, on Sunday on BBC1. It’s developed with the help of Mark Goodacre, one of the most prominent Bible Scholars who runs the excellent NT Gateway site. It looks really interesting, and the BBC website is excellent. (I loved Frank Deasy’s line about the working class Jesus: “The line I was itching to write was ‘Jesus lights a fag’.”)

However, is it me, or are Jesus and all the disciples white?

We don’t get out to the movies much; too little time mainly, so most of the time I catch up with them on DVD. (Ah, the joys of a Home Cinema system!) Anyway, the latest selection for the coveted Page Family ‘Movie Night’ is Stardust, a film based on Neil Gaiman’s book. (Gaiman is a stunningly brilliant writer who made his reputation with the comic book, Sandman, before turning to novels.) Stardust is a gem of a movie. It’s witty, beautiful, unconventional, full of interesting characters and extremely well-plotted. The plotlines weave and tie together well; the hero and heroine are thoroughly likeable and there’s a wonderful pervasive air of Englishness about it all. For me, the only wrong note was the casting of Ricky Gervais who, as yet, has not mastered the art of playing anyone other than himself.

Apparently, Gaiman gave the option on Stardust to the director Matthew Vaughn for free. Mainly because he trusted Vaughn and he wanted someone who would do justice to the book. Gaiman is also, I believe, executive producer on the film. His interest contrasts with the other great comic book writer, Alan Moore. Moore really does not like movies at all, and tends to dismiss any movie made from his work. I think this is sad, because it means so much of More’s great work is overlooked by mediocre films. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, for example, is a truly great comic book, turned into an entirely awful film. Other films based on Moore’s work (e.g. V for Vendetta, From Hell) are mediocre at best. I await the adaptation of Watchmen - possibly the greatest comic book ever written - with a mixture of eager anticipation and utter dread.

Still, at least we’ve got Stardust.

I don’t know, you wait ages (or not) for another post to come along and then two arrive all at once.

Anyway, I just noticed a few interesting news stories. A researcher is claiming that Moses was stoned when he was given the ten commandments. Although if that was really the case you’d have thought the commandments would have sais things like ‘Thou shalt really love everyone man, cause it’s really, you know, cool.’

And secondly, the Vatican is ordering priests to be much nicer. Apparently they’re a bit aggressive in the confession box. Maybe they ought to try what Moses was smoking.

Finally, I had a great time at the weekend preaching at Sutton Vineyard, a church led by my friend Jason Clark. You can read Jason’s blog here and even listen to an mp3 of me preaching.

As for me I’m off to relax with some extract of acacia wood…

Just back from the Christian Bookseller’s Convention in tropical Telford. A really interesting day (or as interesting as it gets in Telford). I was there for a book signing and also to host an author lunch for Authentic. Book signings for most authors are a necessary evil. Either they go well and you think ‘hey I’m a famous author’, or no-one turns up and you think ‘I have no discernible career and everyone hates me.’ This one, I am glad to say, went well. So I feel quite encouraged tonight…

Well, they’re queuing up to happy-slap the Archbishop again. I’ve always been a supporter of his, but he has two main problems; first, he’s an academic and, like most academics, he thinks people are going to listen carefully to what he says before they make a comment. On the whole, the chances of the media listening carefully to him vary between slim and nonexistent. So when he says ’sharia law’ he’s talking in the context of civil and domestic disputes (a system which, I understand, already exists anyway). But the media and his critics immediately hear ’stoning of women, chopping off of hands and wild-eyed zealotry.’ So his assumption of tolerant debate just plays into their hands. As the Muslim Council of Britain said “The [council] observes, with some sadness, the hysterical misrepresentations of his speech which serves only to drive a wedge between British people.”

The other problem he has is that he’s a poet. This means that, even when you have listened carefully to what he says, you frequently end up going ‘eh?’ This makes him anathema to large sections of the Anglican church (mostly the more conservative end) who have no imagination.

It also, perhaps, makes him not a good choice in the first place. As I’ve said, I’ve always been a supporter of his. But maybe this latest row shows that, really, this isn’t the job for him. He needs to be free to discuss things, but you can’t do that when you’re head of the church (or head of the government for that matter). Politically, it’s impossible. Politically, this latest comment was a disaster, not least because some of his fiercest opponents, like the Archbishop of Nigeria, live in places where Sharia Law is much more extreme. So they can just turn round and accuse him of not knowing what he’s talking about, or treating it lightly or… well, they’ll think of something.

He is, undoubtedly, one of the cleverest blokes around, but really clever people don’t often make the best leaders. I think he’s a wise man trapped in a stupid job, maybe it’s time to let someone else get slapped around for a bit.

I’ve started watching the Oliver Stone epic Alexander. I say ’started’ because the version I have (the Alexander Revisisted’ version which, strangely is the Director’s revision of his own ‘Director’s Cut’) is over 3 and a half hours long. I don’t have time to watch a four hour film. So I’t more of a mini-series here. Anyway, the film’s problems have been documented at length. Indeed, ‘at length’ summing up one of the film’s main problems: it’s not just the overall length, it’s the sheer tedium of some of the speeches. And every speech gives you VERY IMPORTANT HISTORICAL FACTS. If people could speak ‘underlined’ this film would be full of it.

There is also the problem of casting. Colin Farrell just doesn’t cut it as Alexander. He’s fine as your average irish rogue, but as the greatest ruler of the western world, it’s a bit of a leap. I can imagine him inspiring the pub football team; inspiring the Macedonian army is a different matter. Val Kilmer doesn’t so much chew the scenery as gulp it down whole. And which idiot thought that anyone would believe Angelina Jolie - an actress who in real life is just one year older than Farrell - would be convincing as his mother?

Anyway, what is good about this film is that it contains some of the best depictions of ancient battles I’ve ever seen; brutal, confusing, bloody, frightening. It’s not for the squeamish, but if you want to get a feel about warfare in Bible and Classical times, this is a good place to start. Also, the depiction of Babylon is stunning. (I haven’t got there yet in the film, but I’ve sneaked ahead.) This gives the full impression of the city; sure it’s probably cleaner than it was in reality, but the magnificence of it, the sheer scale. Alexander saw it as a conqueror; imagine what it was like being led into this as a conquered people. The feeling of powerlessness must have been overwhelming. Here are a few screencaps.

The new MacBook Air has been launched. Wafer-thin, full-size LCD backlit display, illuminated keyboard. Oh I want one. No, I need one. And I deserve it. Really.

As a Christmas present to myself I bought the biography of H.V. Morton, the travel writer. I love Morton’s books. A battered copy of In the Steps of St Paul accompanied me on a trip round Turkey (it wasn’t battered before the trip, incidentally). Morton is a great writer, and his description of Paul in Rome is one of the best passages about the apostle that I’ve ever read.

Sadly, however, the writer himself is not so loveable. A crypto-fascist who found a spiritual home in South Africa and who’s efforts in the war were at odds with his secret admiration for Hitler: this is not a man who one can admire. Perhaps he realised this himself; perhaps the character revealed by his diaries was not the whole truth. He always kept his personal life carefully guarded, because he didn’t want people who admired ‘H.V. Morton the author’ to be dismayed by ‘Harry Morton the man.’ I’m glad I read the book, not least because it’s an excellent biography; but one is always a little saddened when one of your favourite authors turns out to be such a flawed human being.

Of course it doesn’t affect the quality of the work, nor does it undermine the vision. The writing stands on its own as beautifully crafter, cleverly constructed and frequently moving. The vision he portrays of England, for example, as a fundamentally decent and honourable place, is still one I’d like to believe in. And if the narrator who takes us through these lands is a semi-fictional persona, then I’m OK with that. I prefer to think the best of people; and maybe the narrator was the better part of the real H.V. Morton.

Archbishop says nativity ‘a legend’ splutters the Telegraph with it’s usual frothing at the mouth. The Archbishop, you see, has had the temerity to suggest that there weren’t three kings present at the birth of Jesus. Or any kings in fact. And that - hold yourself steady - there may not have been an ass or an ox there either.

Shocking. He’ll be telling us next that Mary wasn’t dressed in blue and that no-one had any haloes. Really, you’ve got to feel for the man. All he does is point out what is actually in the Bible and some pinheads who pass for journalists at the Telegraph go berserk.  (One of whom, apparently, is the Editor -in-chief of the Catholic Herald. He really should know better.)

Actually reading the Bible, as opposed to glancing at the Christmas cards, reveals that not only was there no kings, there was no stable and, in all probability, no inn. (The word usually translated as ‘inn’ actually means ‘guest room’.) I heard the interview yesterday and at no point did Rowan Williams deny the historicity of the nativity accounts - he just tried to point out what they actually say, as opposed to what people think they say. But bless him, that’s his problem. He does read and study and think about things. And it’s quite clear people don’t want that out of an Archbishop.
And, of course, what’s really annoying about him is that I had a press release out about the real truth about Christmas, based on a chapter from my latest book. No chance of getting that covered now, is there? Not when the Archbishop’s doing the job so well.